


More of the Worst

by willgrahamchops



Category: Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Face-Fucking, M/M, Sibling Incest, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 03:19:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willgrahamchops/pseuds/willgrahamchops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>For a moment Thor doesn't speak, features twisting into the pained expression that usually means he's thinking. At last, he says seriously, “If you stay, you may urinate on me whenever you desire.”</i>
</p><p>Or, Loki takes the upper hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More of the Worst

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: piss.

He seizes handfuls of Thor's golden hair, forcing their lips together in a brutal kiss – Thor shoved up against the bedpost, Loki on the balls of his feet, anything to gain the advantage. It's an old habit, really – he doesn't need to gain anything. He has the advantage, has Thor practically groveling for his affection now, and any posturing on his part is simply that; still, there is something visceral in the sharp tug at Thor's scalp, the hand at his throat and the snap of Loki's jaw as he sinks his teeth deep into the meat of his brother's shoulder. There was a time when the gesture would be met in turn. Now Thor accepts it with thanks.

“You must give yourself to me, brother,” he hisses against Thor's eager lips. “If you're to keep any of me, then I will have all of you.”

“By the Norns, Loki, anything,” Thor says, voice rumbling in his chest, relief tugging at the corners of his eyes. Loki has promised to stay, not in Asgard, but at his brother's side; has promised to reform not in spirit but in deed; has promised to make Thor consort in his schemes so long as he doesn't ruin them with his heavy hand. All this after years without a single word, and he has Thor quite firmly under his thumb.

“Understand, I require all you have to offer, even that which judgement enjoins you withhold.” He punctuates the statement with a deceitfully gentle kiss. His tongue slips into his brother's mouth to feed his own blood back to him, even as the crescent wound on his shoulder heals over. “Your trust,” he mutters.

Thor's tongue meets his own in kind, gentle, giving no more than he receives for fear that Loki will abandon him. “Judgement enjoin what she will, I will trust you until you deceive me, and then once more.”

Loki smirks and coils his brother's hair still tighter around his fingers. In his eyes Thor sees a remnant of the boy with whom he sparred as a child – just a flicker, but it fills him to the brim with hope. “You've never been one to learn from past mistakes, brother.”

Thor just takes a moment to breathe his brother's scent, metallic and sharp like his wit. He will not wrap his hands around Loki's slim hips and will not crush Loki's body against his own, no matter what instinct dictates. “My trust and more,” he confirms instead. “Take what you will.”

“Oh, I intend to have it,” Loki says, thin lips drawn tight together as he rests his hands on Thor's shoulders. “Kneel, brother.”

He has to force his body to obey him, so vile is the idea of bowing to another's will, but he does sink to his knees. Loki strokes his hair without malice now, that playful, sinister light shining bright in his eyes. “Much better this way, don't you think?” He says, raking long black nails down the back of Thor's neck. Thor doesn't dare respond. “You're almost as lovely docile as you are in the heat of battle. Once more; say you will dedicate yourself to me.”

Thor's mouth is dry, his tongue heavy behind his teeth. “I will,” he says.

Loki hums in satisfaction. “Then I will mark you as my own.”

Unease clenches in Thor's gut as Loki's hands flutter beneath his own tunic – he could accept the kissing as a remnant of the bond he and Loki once shared, closeness uncontested, but it is difficult to accept anything more, no matter how much he desires it. He will accept this because it is Loki's price, because they are not bound by blood, but no amount of desire will erase the childhood they spent together.

“Don't cower, Thor; it's unbecoming,” Loki sneers, taking his cock in hand and reveling in the way Thor's face drains of color. He grips his brother by the jaw and forces him to look. “Are you afraid I'll fuck you?”

Thor doesn't answer but he tenses at the thought, tendons standing out like whipcord in his sinewy neck.

“I know your craving, brother. You would allow me your maidenhead if I only asked.” There is a pause, and for a terrible moment Thor is afraid that Loki will make him answer, but then he releases Thor's jaw and takes a step back. Heat floods Thor's face. “But that's not what I want. I'm going to mark you, and you will remain on your knees and accept my gift.” Loki remains soft in his hand from sheer constitution.

For all Thor's foresight in battle, Loki's intentions elude him until the moment they are realized, and by then it's too late to protest – though he knows not what he would say; perhaps this fight is not worth the consequences. Thor's eyes snap shut on instinct.

“Oh yes,” Loki breathes, almost reverent, as the first few spurts of piss wet Thor's hair and trickle down his scalp.

Thor's eyes remain dry, and so he cracks them open – and immediately regrets it. By the Nine, his brother even pisses gracefully, slender cock held between forefingers and thumb, a perfect stream of gold arcing from his slit to Thor's chest, lips drawn up in smug satisfaction.

He makes the mistake of opening his mouth in awe – really, after a lifetime spent enduring his brother's malice he should know better, because Loki is nothing if not opportunistic.

Thor sputters as liquid fills his mouth, and he doesn't mean to swallow but his mind isn't quick enough to stop his reflexes. His mouth immediately snaps shut. Loki holds up a hand.

“No,” he says.

And Thor tentatively opens once more. Something draws bowstring-tight in his chest: he is beginning to doubt his own motives, has a creeping suspicion that this obedience is not entirely to please his brother. Pleased nonetheless, Loki smiles serenely at the sight of his piss filling his brother's mouth. Thor doesn't swallow again but rather lets it flow over, down his chin to splash over his chest, steaming hot in air that is suddenly far too cold. It is nearly tasteless, defined instead by an overwhelming heat, a subtle musk that is unmistakably Loki. Elation bubbles up inside Thor and he crushes it down again. This is not intimate, not sensual; it is humiliating.

And it ends. The stream thins to a trickle and then to nothing as the remnants pool behind Thor's teeth. Before he can shut his mouth, Loki's cock is in his face, close enough that Thor almost can't look up to meet his eyes.

But he does, and he's met with a tiny, genuine smile that drains the fight right out of him, so he keeps his mouth open and allows Loki to wipe the last few drops across his lower lip.

Delicate fingers urge his jaw shut, trail down the column of his throat and press, gently; Thor swallows the last of it. Loki draws back.

His brother is a sight to behold, kneeling at his feet, hair dripping wet and eyes dark. His bare chest heaves as if he's struggling to draw breath under the pressure of Loki's gaze. Darkness seeps into the band of his trousers. The saturated fabric clings obscenely to his cock, leaving nothing to the imagination. He's hard against his thigh.

Loki crouches, drawn in by the tension in Thor's mouth. Slowly, carefully, he kisses it away. Thor parts his lips easily, shudders as Loki's tongue darts between them to taste himself and his hand trails down Thor's chest, to the trousers adhered to his thigh, muscles standing out in sharp relief even under the fabric. Thor suddenly remembers why he is here.

“You will stay,” he growls into Loki's mouth. His brother's lips pull into a tight smile.

“Oh, I'll stay,” he says, and he palms Thor's cock through the damp material, traces the head with a fingernail, feels it thicken impossibly further under his touch. Thor huffs out a breath and grimaces, hips twitching into Loki's hand. “No doubt you curse your body for disobeying you, hm? Since there is not a sliver of possibility you enjoyed such a debasing act.”

Thor scowls. “Are you mocking me, Liesmith?”

Loki hums, a smirk playing across his lips. “Well, if you have to ask, I think you know the answer.”

Thor is fully prepared to pound Loki into the floor for his insolence, but his brother preempts him with that horrid gentleness he plays so well, rolling Thor's trousers down his thighs in one swift motion. He gasps as the cold air strikes him, and then again as Loki slithers to the floor and takes Thor's cock in his mouth.

“Brother,” he groans in protest, hoping that the word will be enough to convey the source of his displeasure. Unfortunately, it is.

“Should I stop?” Loki asks, allowing Thor to slip from his mouth and trail spit down his chin.

Thor, never one for courtesy, grabs Loki by the hair and forces him back down on his cock. To Loki's credit, he doesn't so much as gag, but this only makes Thor angrier. “How many before me?” He growls, grip going slack long enough for Loki to pull back.

“Plenty,” he says, not even breathless. “Don't be cross, dear. We're supposed to be playing nice--” he falls silent as Thor shows him just how nice he's willing to be.

Loki takes his entire length with ease, something only a few maidens have accomplished in the past, and Thor marvels. Where does it go? There doesn't seem to be room in Loki to accommodate him, not even with the visible bulge in his slender throat. Women have always admired his manhood, but Thor has never appreciated his own size until now.

He is acutely aware of the cool wetness dripping down the back of his neck, the fabric of his trousers drying stiff around his thighs, his entire world smelling of Loki, sharp and clean. He grips his brother by the hair and thrusts brutally into him, watching the outline of his cock move in his throat – no matter how hard he tries to gain the upper hand, he still has the distinct feeling that Loki is in charge here. This only fuels his anger, propelling his hips forward as he fucks his brother's impudent mouth.

His peak hits him with little warning – hits Loki with even less warning as Thor stiffens and empties down his throat. For all his skill, he struggles to swallow it all, is still struggling as Thor withdraws. Come leaks thick and viscous from the corners of his mouth.

Thor's eyes are glazed over. Loki wipes his mouth on his hand, then wipes his hand on his brother. He grimaces. “Virile, aren't you?”

Thor's voice rumbles to life in his chest. “On Midgard I was once worshipped as a god of fertility.”

“I think you fertilized my esophagus.”

Thor's eyes snap wide open. Loki chuckles.

“Not really, Thor. A god of fertility should know that's not how it works.”

“You would deceive me into bearing an impure heir in order to steal the throne,” he says, eyes narrowing.

“Really now,” Loki sighs. He stands and straightens his clothing, and then with a snap of his fingers removes all evidence of their activities. Thor blinks, hair suddenly dry. “I thought we were supposed to be trusting each other. Or have you already forgotten?”

Thor hastily pulls his trousers up, but his face softens. “I only mean–”

“No, it's alright,” Loki says, waving his hand. “I lied anyway.”

“You will not remain in Asgard?” Thor speaks with a resignation that strikes something within Loki.

“Well, the bit about reforming, at least,” he concedes.

For a moment Thor doesn't speak, features twisting into the pained expression that usually means he's thinking. At last, he says seriously, “If you stay, you may urinate on me whenever you desire.”

“Oh, brother,” Loki says, restraining laughter. He can't deny himself a brief kiss to Thor's temple. “You know I'll do that anyway.”

 


End file.
